So, this chapter isn't really anything special, I'm half-way through the next chapter already, so hopefully I'll have this updated again soon. And Harry will definitely be older - I'm thinking around 10 years old, give or take. So it'll be a time jump. Sorry for the wait in getting this chapter out, I've been lazy.
And now, without further ado, I'll post this up, hide away, take a "break" from the sociology essay I'm supposed to be writing and read some fanfiction... I really need to finish that essay, it's due tomorrow...
So, read, review, hugs and kisses and cookies - and I don't own Harry Potter.
Unfortunately, his plan, to flee to Brazil, adopt a new name, and hide his godson in the deepest corner of the earth away from Voldemort, Dumbledore, and the Ministry, failed.
Not that he really thought that it would work to begin with. It was more of a Plan B that would never work since they had Ministry workers all over Europe (and most likely the world) checking all wizards that had boarded planes and arrived in their country.
It'd be a one way ticket to Azkaban.
And there was no way to achieve the move through legal means without Voldemort or Dumbledore finding the paper trail that he left behind.
He'd rather not be branded a traitor to whoever found him.
If they found him.
It'd probably be better if he just hid.
That little old lady down in the kitchen probably wouldn't mind, she seemed uncannily excited at having such a late house guest and gladly welcomed her former visitor 'Jamie White and his son' with welcome arms.
It scared him.
He was fairly sure that she was making chocolate chip cookies as of this very moment. And Harry, who was currently playing with his toy version of Padfoot, would be sure to want one. Sirius couldn't very well say no, but who's to say that that old lady wasn't going to poison them?
The Black heir paused at that thought. It was when you started to suspect nice people of murder when you realized that training under Mad-Eye Moody screwed with your mind.
Might as well just try to forget that part of training… maybe.
It wasn't like he was becoming as paranoid as Mad-Eye… it isn't paranoia if everyone really is out to get you, right? Maybe?
Who knows?
Might as well just push that argument to the back of his mind to contemplate some other time.
Harry squirmed before him, catching his attention as he dropped the stuffed animal to the ground. "Harry?" He kneeled beside the child, his question hanging unanswered in the air, as the boy made a face, "Har–" and the answer came to him, in the form of a rather pungent scent.
He wrinkled his nose as the boy suddenly giggled. "Right," he muttered picking up the 15 month old. "Right."
But the boy tried to squirm as he held him at arms length, attempting to get a better view of his guardian as Sirius maneuvered the door open with his foot. After several failed attempts while walking down the hallway, the boy stopped, his lip quivered, and a soft "Ma?" escaped his mouth. Sirius froze, guilt squeezing his chest, as he stared at the boy.
The thoughts he'd tried to keep at bay unconsciously invaded his mind, and he forced down a sob, pulling the boy close to him as he stumbled over towards the wall, towards something solid. He sank down next to the wall, dirty nappy forgotten. "Ma can't come," he whispered softly, placing a kiss to the top of the boys head. "Ma and Da love you very much, very very much."
He forced down another sob, his eyes felt itchy, and his throat felt much too large… Harry pulled at a large chunk of his hair, suitably distracted from his missing parents.
"Dirty nappy," he suddenly said with a small chuckle at the toddler, "forgot, sorry."
Sirius stood up, swaying slightly on his feet, before stumbling into the bathroom just a door down to his right; his feet padded loudly on the hard wood floors, so different from the previous hotels bland carpets…
He set Harry down onto the floor. He'd asked the woman to put his extra nappies in the room… and they were located just under the sink – thankfully, he'd rather not have to search high and low for diapers.
Harry was getting fussy as was.
"We'll leave tomorrow," Sirius said, attempting to forget that he was talking to a toddler. He remembered Lily saying something about talking to babies helps their learning capabilities or something like that. Lily used to talk to Harry every moment that she could, going as far as to count each step that she would walk up while on her way to the nursery with Harry in her arms.
Harry had just started to (attempt to) count along with her.
"We've got to find another place to stay," along with a plan on how we're going to hide, where we're going to hide, who is attempting to find us, why they want to find us… There were too many questions and variables that Sirius didn't have, and didn't want to even contemplate.
He blinked, stared down at the child, suddenly wondering if he really had changed the diaper, but the soft smell emitting from the trash can hidden in the crevice between the sink and the wall pointed toward that he did change it. He must been going insane, Sirius decided decisively, he didn't even remember changing Harry's nappy.
Then again, James did the same thing; he'd work himself into the ground, come home change Harry's nappy, forget he did it, and then do it again. Sirius used to laugh his ass off every time James did that. He managed to work himself into such a frenzy that he believed that Harry had stopped pooping all together.
It took Lily, Remus, and Sirius himself to convince James that Harry wasn't about to die from not going poo.
It was a rather awkward conversation with Lily blandly saying words like 'poo' and 'pee' and 'wiener' while Remus tried to toe around the words (the subject all together really) and Sirius making things ten times worse by asking questions.
Needless to say, it didn't help James calm down any.
"What am I going to do with you?" He asked the child quietly, but the boy merely grinned up at him, chewing on his fingers slightly as he sat on the cold, porcelain floor.
A soft cry of "cookies" distracted Sirius as Harry began chanting his warped version of the word cookie for the world to hear.
Sirius twitched, fingered his wand and glared at the door silently, before sighing and moving towards the child, picking him up quickly. The woman wouldn't poison them… He was being paranoid… Moody screwed with people's minds… might as well just eat the Merlin-damned cookies…
He sincerely hoped that he didn't screw up Harry's mind if he had to raise him.